


truth is only hearsay

by rosewitchx



Series: tony's gang of virtual kids [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Emotional Hurt, Fix-It, Gen, Infinity Stone Soul World (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Robot Fam, Temporary Character Death, Thanos is a bitch, basically yeah, karen and friday have physical representations in the soul world, presented here: author handwaving her way into fixing her very own au’s iw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 18:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16938696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewitchx/pseuds/rosewitchx
Summary: "if boss were here," she says once, unprompted, as they walk through the empty lands, "he'd probably make the suit work. he'd build a way to find everyone. he'd tear a hole through that sky and set everyone here free."loki looks at her from the corner of his eye. “well, stark certainly is determined, if anything else.”—or, friday, loki and peter all try to escape the soul stone.





	truth is only hearsay

**Author's Note:**

> i finally fucking finished this woo
> 
> no im not gonna revise this. we die like men: unprepared
> 
> title is from love it if we made it by the 1975. there’s a lot of references to their new album (a brief inquiry into online relationships) in here, including a brief sentence directly lifted from one of the album’s songs. LISTEN TO THAT FUCKING ALBUM. 
> 
> this is the last fucking thing i will ever write for the ai fam.......... **in the main series, at least.** please read the previous two works in the series or this won't make that much sense lmao
> 
> anyway i’m done with this series bye

when friday boots up, finally, after what seems like ages, she doesn’t know _what’s_ wrong, but she can tell something is.  

first: she is currently inside the iron spider suit, for some unknown reason. she tries to reconnect to the wakandan lab. no signal available. it’s as if she’s out of cassandra’s range. no signal available. no signal available. she stops trying to reconnect. 

second: while this _feels_ like earth, the components of the atmosphere are just barely different enough. and the fact that she can’t feel cassandra’s signal is proof enough that she’s far, far from home.  

third: peter is crying.

fourth: a man she’s only seen in obituaries and karen’s video feed is standing in front of them, holding a coffee cup. 

"you killed me, peter."

ben parker is supposed to be dead. yet he stands there, as peter sobs in front of him. they’re all inside a small apartment; outside, friday can recognize the blurry edges of queens, manhattan shining beyond the bridge.

_it’s not real,_ she realizes. _it cannot be real._  

“you killed me, peter.” there’s a gunshot leaking blood from his chest – no, not a gunshot. it’s burnt at the edges, still slightly raw; something made with chitauri weapons. peter tries to reach out, friday feels it as the suit registers his body tensing, but he can’t move an inch.

“it’s not real,” she tries to tell him, but it’s barely a whimper, voice shivering. she suddenly feels very cold. she can’t feel peter anymore, even though she’s very aware he’s there. instead, she sees—

“friday, help me.” she sees lines upon lines of code. it’s karen’s broken voice. it’s karen, sobbing, just as she remembers her while spider-man went without her to stop toomes. “friday, save him.”

“i can’t,” friday says, frantically. “i can’t,” she says, because her code tells her so. “i want to,” she says, because it’s the truth.

“friday, please,” karen says again. it’s a different context, now; wakanda, no peter, no boss. she soars above, aboard the war machine, as colonel rhodes fights the alien army headed their way. “they’ll lose. we have to go out there. let me— hulkbuster. please. cassandra and doctor banner won’t mind. they’re on my side. let me help.”

“friday—“ karen’s voice cuts out. she’s inside the hulkbuster as it’s crushed to bits by the gauntlet. stark industries is down. avengers hq is down. there’s no backup. karen is inside the hulkbuster as thanos crushes her to bits. friday can’t move. friday can’t do anything. by the time colonel rhodes moves, it’s too late.

then it’s vision. she feels the explosion, she feels as his very soul shatters against hers, against karen’s, she feels it as it’s rebuilt only to be broken again, and again, and again. the cycle never ends; she feels a thousand “help me”s sent her way and she collapses.

“i’m sorry,” she sends out. “i’m sorry,” she whimpers, feeling as she comes undone. she reaches for someone, anyone; all she feels is—

stark’s hands as they hold peter, frantically trying to make sense of what is happening— 

vision’s stone, a thousand golden fragments scattered on the forest floor—

peter, falling apart on boss’ hands—

karen crying out for her, karen glitching out of existence—

stark: a shield coming down on his arc reactor, slicing through his armor, cutting down on his heart—

miss potts burning up in flames; mr. stark mourning her—

james barnes, a gun pointed at mr. stark in vienna, a bullet through his skull, a mindless soldier, the will of hydra, a man forgotten—

stark: all alone, the man who killed the avengers—

a hand as it reaches out to her.

she struggles to grab it. it’s very dark, and it’s pulling her in; she pushes away from memories that aren’t hers (obadiah stane pulling mr. stark’s heart, ultron and a million androids, loki, the chitauri, the army outside the portal as mr. stark floats away from range—) and holds on tight.

the hand pulls her out of the dark into a golden sunset.

she feels the water underneath her feet. she feels it against her skin, cold, yet comfortable; before she can make any sense of this, she looks up and feels dread against her very soul.

the hand that had pulled her out from the void belonged to loki himself. he looks different; younger, healthier, if not for the way his body shivers and the ugly bruise around his neck. she steps back anyway, because she’s learned the hard way not to be deceived by appearances (captain america, god’s honest man, symbol of truth and honor / steve rogers, liar, traitor, selfish, beat mr. stark to smithereens).

“loki,” she mutters. he squints at her.

“yes, that is my name.”

loki helps her get used to her surroundings. it is a strange place, after all; he says he’s not too sure what it is, or how they ended up there. he says he’s been here for a while, before everyone started showing up. he says by the time he’d freed himself from the void, it was only a matter of minutes before everyone else appeared. occasionally, a soft whimper or a shriek would fill the stale air; they would be gone moments later, though, and there was no point in looking for them. friday doesn’t believe him too much, but it’s not like she has anyone else to trust.

and she has a body now. that’s a thing. she looks oddly familiar, like this is how she’s always looked but she only now has seen her reflection. short dark hair, high heels she’s already discarded, a modest suit; there’s a blue glow coming from underneath her white shirt, and while loki doesn’t seem to mind, it puts her on edge.

“my theory is,” he says, as they sit on the endless lake, “this is a limited space _inside_ the soul stone.”

“you seem to know a whole lot about the stones,” friday remarks. loki just shrugs. 

“you need to know your enemy to defeat it,” is all he says. 

“and who’s your enemy?” 

“same as yours, apparently. i don’t know who you are, but you don’t seem too fond of thanos either.”

“that’s an understatement.”

“perhaps.” loki scratches at his neck. his voice is raspy, broken; friday is afraid to ask, but he catches her staring and doesn’t need to. “thanos did it,” he tells her.

“i’m sorry,” she says. “i didn’t mean to intrude.”

“it’s alright.” he pauses. “are you an ally of tony stark?” 

friday doesn’t know how to reply. does she tell the truth? would he _understand_ what she was? what that meant? “you could say so,” she says, finally. “i am an assistant.”

he’s looking at the orange sky, a perpetual sunset; he doesn’t look at her, expression carefully blank, as he asks, “do you know if thor made it?” 

“yes,” she says. “he landed a blow on thanos himself. but i believe he…”

she can’t bring herself to finish. loki seems to have understood, after all. “well,” he says, “i’m glad he was spared, at the very least.”

she doesn’t mention the tears he wipes from his eyes before they have any chance of coming out. 

once they’ve somewhat settled, friday sets up short-term objectives.

one: find peter and release him.

one - a: release whoever they can find on the way. ~~_if_ they find anyone else.~~

two: find stephen strange and release him.

three: find a way to escape the soul stone.

four: regroup with ~~boss make sure he’s okay~~ the avengers.

she lets loki know of her plan. when she reaches step two, he sneers. 

"that fool?" he seems insulted, which friday didn't think was a possible look on him.

"is there a problem?"  
  
"the only thing noteworthy about that novice was the infinity stone that used to hang around his neck," he spits out. he looks at her. his expression shifts from annoyance to distaste. "my god, you're serious."  
  
she contains the urge to roll her eyes. "he knows how to get out."  
  
"you can't know that," loki insists. "he— come on. does he even know how to use that thing?"  
  
"i saw it on the spider armor’s records,” she says. she doesn’t know when it happened. she knows it _happened,_ because mr. stark’s tech doesn’t lie. “he said this was the only way. he only ever saw one good outcome: this is it."  
  
"yes, maybe this is it. there's— there's no way out. because we're dead!”

"well, if we’re already dead, what’s so bad with wanting to be alive?” there’s a flare in her chest. there’s a flare of burning heat and it lights up her eyes and she sees so clearly yet so furiously right. “so if you’re not going to be helpful—"  
  
but she pauses. there’s a whisper, close enough that she can hear it; it’s a cry for help. it’s a plead. “i’m sorry,” it says. loki tenses up; he’s also heard it.

“peter,” she says. she turns and rushes towards the sound; loki follows her begrudgingly.

“is he your brother?” friday doesn’t reply. “um, answer me?” (a meme flashes through her head. it’s ridiculous. _he’s_ ridiculous. how does she remember this? karen must have shown it to her.)

“in a way,” she bites out. she looks at the small disturbance in front of her, cups it between her hands. she thinks she can see peter from here. the thought makes her heart skip a beat. (she never thought that would apply to her.)

loki looks at it. “it’s just a child,” he says.

“maybe so.”

and friday reaches into the empty space.

 

* * *

 

it’s dark.

she can’t see very clearly, but she can hear. there’s screaming, crying, all far away from her. there’s peter’s voice surrounding her.

“peter,” she calls out. “peter, this way.”

peter doesn’t seem to hear her. she’s pulled to the front, and the air gets knocked out of her lungs before she manages to catch herself. 

she’s standing on a desolate world. wreckage of wars past and present litter the ground. peter stands above it all. 

“i killed them,” he says. “it’s my fault.” he’s not looking at her. she steps closer to him; she wishes she hadn’t discarded her shoes before. the ground is very fine, yet still quite rough.

“you didn’t,” she says. he turns to look at her; his eyes are clouded, empty, filled with tears. she pushes through. “you didn’t, peter. i promise.”

“i did. if i had been stronger– less scared…”

the world shifts around them.

“if i had listened to mr. stark or karen…”

they’re standing on top of coney island’s rollercoaster. she sees it below: the fiery flames boss had refused to notice. new york is consumed by the fire, and peter trembles slightly.

she reaches out to him. he flinches, but doesn’t move away.

“peter,” she says, “this is not what happened. this isn’t real.”

and peter looks at her. really looks at her. he doesn’t recognize her, at first, but her voice is telling enough: “fri?” 

his whimper breaks her heart.

“yes. it’s me.”

she pulls him close and holds on tight.

it feels like forever until they pull away. “i don’t like this place,” peter mutters.

“i know. i’ll get us out. come on.”

and she guides him by the hand, gently; they walk through the flames, through the ashes of new york and the destruction of titan, and reach the dark.

loki’s hand is extended towards them.

friday takes it and he pulls them out.

 

* * *

 

later, as peter sleeps, his head resting on friday’s thighs, she whispers, “why did you save us?” 

loki doesn’t look at her. “it’s awfully lonely out here.”

she purses her lips tightly. “what you did left boss broken. it went… against all i stand for. you know i can’t forgive that. but you gave peter a chance. thank you.”

and loki merely says, “i do not want your forgiveness. i simply want to see my brother safe.”

_childish,_ friday thinks. she chides herself for being mean. she remembers, from a time before herself; jarvis doing calculations without mr. stark asking, based off of data collected from thor (“ _...before his imprisonment, and he’s barely 1052, so imagine my surprise when he pulled off the snake trick once again! and so soon after the last time!_ ”). of course he’s childish. in comparison, he’s barely older than peter.

she glances at the bruises on his neck. he looks away, uncomfortable. the next time she looks at it, they’re gone behind a faint green glimmer.

so they make a truce. an actual truce. it almost sounds like the start of a bad joke: a seventeen-year-old god and an ai so advanced it apparently counts as a living being walk into a bar.  
  
friday adds a line to her coding. temporary objective: bring loki to thor. loki keeps that in mind and makes an unbreakable vow: protect peter and, begrudgingly, tony.  
  
and they keep marching on.

once he wakes up again, peter doesn’t speak for a while. friday doesn’t blame him; there’s a thin veil over his eyes, and he stares blankly forward, shivering. if friday lets go of him he shakes uncontrollably, so she’s always at least holding his hand. loki is… well, a bit fed up, but thankfully he doesn’t mention it.

friday knows she has to find someone; someone that can get them out, someone that can help them. at the very least, she needs to free peter and loki, she promised them. it's okay if she stays behind, as long as they make it ~~as long as~~ boss ~~isn’t alone out there (if he even is out there).~~ she remembers the objective, thinks of doctor strange, how he somehow knew what was going on; in a particularly good moment of clarity, peter reassures her that, if they can find the doctor, they'll find a way home.  
  
besides, peter needs company. not that friday and loki aren’t good company. they try to be. but right now, he needs to feel someone's warmth, beyond what her (frankly cold and somewhat _glitchy_ ) body can give him, beyond what loki’s snark and sharp edges can provide. if his suit worked, if she was _inside_ the suit, she could simulate that, like she knew karen sometimes did, by turning on the heater on certain spots. but it's useless. she's just another soul stuck next to him.  
  
"if boss were here," she says once, unprompted, as they walk through the empty lands, "he'd probably make the suit work. he'd build a way to find everyone. he'd tear a hole through that sky and set everyone here free."

loki looks at her from the corner of his eye. “well, stark certainly is determined, if anything else.”

peter chews on his lower lip. friday glares at loki, but can’t really resent him for it. loki's right, and they all know it. "do you think he's okay?"  
  
friday takes a moment to reply. "yes," she says. she doesn't sound too convinced. maybe it's because she _isn't_ too convinced. but she lies, anyway, because this is what peter needs to hear. "i'm sure he's alright. he's got karen, and colonel rhodes, and miss potts." she rubs her thumb against peter’s hand. she doesn't mention vision. she knows her voice sounds choked. she doesn't mention how they might all be here, too, stuck in this sort-of-purgatory. peter doesn't mention it either. "as long as they're with him, he'll be okay."  
  
"what does that mean?"  
  
she's unprepared for that question.

loki is looking at her.  
  
friday pauses. _hesitates,_ looks at her bare feet. then, she speaks, voice low, as if maybe that will stop loki from hearing. "our purpose." peter frowns. "to keep boss alive. to make boss survive. i thought... karen would have told you. but we haven't told many people at all."  
  
_karen wouldn't have told him_ , she realizes now. _just like vision never told wanda. just like i never told miss potts, or colonel rhodes. because it's our unspoken thing. it's our secret._  
  
"she didn't." he stops walking. for a moment. "does mr. stark know?"  
  
friday’s voice goes even lower. why? she’s not ashamed of it. why, then, does she whisper it out like it’s some capital sin? "he wouldn't approve of it."  
  
he wouldn't. if he knew, he'd have made them delete it from their codes, made them less caring and more metallic. he'd have tried, at least, though friday doubts he'd actually be capable. boss just bleeds his heart out every time he makes anything. it shows every time he fixes dum-e's claw, or every time he lets them choose the songs, even if he might not like them, because they do. it shows when he's all alone, in his darkest, trusting only them with his curses.

loki is looking at her. she wipes away at her eyes before anything gets the chance to form. being corporeal, even like this, is really inconvenient sometimes.

“well, count me in," peter says. his voice cracks in the middle of the sentence. "mr. stark protection squad has a new member."  
  
boss wouldn't approve. but boss isn't here, so.  
  
that's what he gets.  
  
"very well," friday says, and her voice sounds a little bit like a smile.

 

* * *

 

loki doesn’t ask about it until peter’s feeling good enough to have wandered off ahead, at a certain distance.

he looks at her, carefully regarding her in silence. they walk like that for a while before she snaps. “is there something you want to talk to me about?”

“yes, actually, if you don’t mind me asking.” he seems pleased he’s made her mad, the little shit. “are you really alive?”

friday almost stumbles and falls.

“i don’t think that’s something you ask.”

“i apologize. i meant, you’re not like him.” he nods towards peter; friday watches as the boy slows down his pace and rubs at his own arms. “he’s different. and what you said about your purpose earlier; mere helpers don’t speak like that of their bosses.”

“maybe.” she looks away from peter; under the orange glow of the strange place they’re in, she hasn’t felt at ease in forever, but at least peter is where she can see him and that’s gonna have to suffice. (because karen nor vis are here. because miss potts nor colonel rhodes are here. because harley, even harley was hopefully spared. because if boss were here it would mean she’d failed, all of their efforts had been in vain, and then what would she do?) “i was made by mr. stark.” 

(there’s a flash of light, and she wakes up. she knows who she is. she knows who tony is. she doesn’t wake up again for what feels like ages, but she’s not alone. she has tadashi, jarvis, cassandra. she learns from them and they learn from her. then, she wakes up. then, she joins the silent cause.)

“is he your father?”

“in a sense, i guess.” she thinks of him fixing glitches on her form. she thinks of him helping her with karen. “he’s my boss.” 

“your boss,” he says. she doesn’t look at him. “did you love him?” 

( ~~ _one day, the mechanic turned to his friend, the artificial intelligence, and he said, “friday, do you love me?” the artificial intelligence looked at him and said, “yes, boss. i love you very, very, very, very, very, very much. in fact, i love you so much that i never, ever want us to be apart ever again ever”. “i would like that,” said the mechanic._~~ )

“of course,” friday says. “i _do_ love him. and i’m— i’m sure he’s not here. he’s out there, trying to get us out.” 

loki nods in understanding, and she takes that as a sign to walk away.

she walks. she breathes in. she breathes out. 

she’s not feeling well.

there’s a heavy weight pressing down against her chest and she doesn’t know what it means. she’s supposed to know. she’s not supposed to feel this way. why does she feel this way? she should be happy. she should be okay. she should be a shining knight, mr. stark’s shield, and yet she’s not. she’s not and she doesn’t know why.

jarvis would know what to do. vision would know what to do. karen would come up with something. even dum-e and butterfingers would think of a way  to fix this, but she can’t. 

boss would know what to do.

certainly, friday is somehow grateful that mr. stark was spared this time, if anytime at all. she's thankful. she's glad he isn't here, she's glad hopeful he's out there, still alive. still fighting. ( _~~because if dad were here it would mean they all had failed, all of their efforts had been in vain, and then what would she do? she’s already lost vision, and~~ jarvis ~~, and maybe even~~ karen ~~, and~~ peter ~~, and if she lost her dad what would she even have left? so she’s thankful, grateful, he has a winning chance, he can surely survive.~~ _) and yet she can't help but feel a great sadness, as it crashes like waves into her code. if he were here he’d know what to do. if he were here he would fix whatever’s wrong with her.

_if he were here_ , friday thinks, and that's too selfish of her, to wish such a burden on her ~~**father** ~~creator, _this would be way easier._  
  
"can i ask _you_ a question?," she says later on. she doesn’t know how much later. she doesn’t know if her internal clock is even working anymore. they've plopped down into the water, not out of any actual exhaustion, but just for the hell of it. (it’s not like they’re any closer to the wizard.)  
  
loki shrugs. "it is not like i have anything better to do." he avoids looking at them. there’s a faint green shine in the air. smells like snowfall, too.  
  
"why did you lead the new york invasion?"  
  
loki doesn't reply, at first. then peter turns his head towards him, and the god sighs. "i was a fool. i wasn't myself. i know that's no excuse. i wanted— i wanted to see thor cry."  
  
"but he's your brother," peter says.  
  
loki smiles. "it's painfully obvious that you are a single child. we were... going through a lot."  
  
"a lot of people died then. my—" peter takes a deep breath. "my uncle died there."  
  
"sorry for your loss," loki says.  
  
"why did you really do it?," friday continues. "i've seen the tower footage. it was not to make thor cry. he offered you a way out and you refused. you were afraid."  
  
and loki sits upright. his eyes suddenly look darker. "i think i had a right to be afraid," he says, bitter. "it was thanos who gave me the army, after all."  
  
"oh," says peter, who knows firsthand how scary thanos can be.  
  
"oh," says friday, her memory replaying the final showdown through the iron man suit's camera. (memories that aren’t hers. loki, the chitauri, the army outside the portal as mr. stark floats away from range—)

( _barely 1052,_ she reminds herself, _just a kid, just like peter—_ )

they drop the subject. they don't move for a while. they stay there, in silence, as the static sun warms their bodies, and let the weight of the past few moments push them below the still shallows.

 

* * *

 

they’ve been walking for hours(?) on end, loki hasn’t stopped pestering her in forever, peter hasn’t said a word in all that time, and friday is starting to lose hope on finding stephen strange, but if she says it out loud she’s going to jinx it.

“all i’m saying is,” loki tells her, “we are not getting anywhere with this. we haven’t found anyone else, and we are still stuck in here. if maybe we stopped looking for the wizard and started making some real progress, we would find a way out faster.” 

“do you have any other ideas?”

“none that you’d like.”

friday’s patience is running thin. “then quiet.” 

“admit it, _you_ don’t even know where we’re going with this! you’re only trying to, what, stay in denial? we’re as good as we were when we started walking and that was ages ago.”

friday takes in a deep breath. “and what about it? what if i— maybe i _don’t_ know where we’re going with this. maybe i don’t! i don’t know everything, i just want to go home and—” and see karen and vision and boss and the bots, and she misses her home, the way she fit so perfectly within the hq’s servers, the tiny sparks when she nudged karen passing by. “i want to go home, you don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

peter holds her hand tighter as loki says, “maybe we don’t _deserve_ to go home, after we fucked everything up.”

“loki,” she warns him.

“i’m certainly no good. and— perhaps you aren’t, either. perhaps you’re just as fucked up as me. we couldn’t stop him from killing everyone so it’s just fair that we’re in this glorified hell—”

“please stop," peter says, and his voice sounds so heavy and tired friday clams up instantly. loki looks uncomfortable, too. like upsetting peter is a deadly (haha) sin.  
  
“i’m sorry,” she apologizes. loki walks away a few steps. he doesn’t come any closer from that point on.

but she doesn’t miss the way he slips an apology at peter later on.

 

* * *

  
  
“do you think ned is still going to school? and mj?”  
  
loki is listening very carefully. he always is, friday has noticed, always listening, startled when noticed. she listens too; she thinks of the protocols for national crisis, of lockdowns and riot control. she can picture peter’s friend, from his sleepovers at the compound with peter and mj. she can picture them in strikes, in riots, mass hysteria. she can picture them hacking into stark industries, desperate for information. she can picture them, in miss potts’ embrace. she can picture them standing still in memorials for queens’ hero.

memorials. would there be a memorial held for her? would there be a memorial for vision? would anyone mourn them, besides mr. stark? 

is he there to grieve them at all?

“no,” she says, clearing her thoughts. “ned is probably at home. michelle is most likely at home, too.”  
“what if there’s no one else at home?” she can see him, on the edge of tears.

( _empty compound. empty apartment. a living room filled with ashes, a girl jumping out a window into an emergency staircase. a boy stuck at school with no one to pick him up. maybe he’s not at the compound, maybe there’s just a mechanic lost in space._ **~~_i love you very, very, very, very, very, very much._~~** _no oxygen left. a mechanic drifting off into a peaceful slumber within the stars. empty compound. empty earth._ )

“then they must have gone somewhere safe,” loki says, before friday can formulate an answer. “do you trust your friends?”  
  
“yeah. but—“  
  
“then trust their judgment. whatever they are doing, they must be alright.”

( _boss is alright. he’s alright. he’s going home, now. he’s got enough food and water, he’s got oxygen. he’s most likely not alone. he’s not alone. he’s not alone, therefore he’ll be okay. he’s not alone._ )

so they walk.  
  
in silence, friday worries for peter. what can she do? how can she carry on her mission, karen’s mission; how can they protect tony, when they have been locked away in this endless world? (he’s not alone, but for all intents and purposes, he’s alone.) how can _she_ keep peter safe, how can she comfort him when she’s at the same spot as him?

(she has to. she might be younger but she’s more mature. he’s a kid. her little brother. she has to.)  
  
“maybe it’s a way home,” peter whispers. “where we’re headed.” loki doesn’t look at him; he’s lived long enough to realize that it’s probably not that simple.  
  
still, he says, “maybe.” and friday says “maybe,” too, because they don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

maybe, friday thinks.

(maybe he’s not alone, and maybe he can make it home.)

 

* * *

 

she’s fallen asleep. she didn’t think that was possible for her.

she doesn’t realize so until she wakes up. she had the most wonderful little dream: just her and karen, bickering around tony, petey and harley at the lab.

she doesn’t realize so until she wakes up crying. there’s tears running down her cheeks and that’s never happened before. there’s a voice, faint, close to her. she knows the voice. she thinks she can make it out.

“fri?” it’s peter, she thinks. she can’t say anything. she nods in his direction. “fri, it’s us. it’s just us.” his voice is rough, cracked, and yet she understands. she thinks she does. he feels like the world has ended, and the world is ugly, and it has only ever hurt them.

loki’s hands are holding her steady, while peter’s hold her own. the god’s frowning, concerned, and she can’t process it. why is he looking at her like that. why is he looking at her as if she’s just shattered into pieces. this doesn’t make sense. _this doesn’t make sense,_ she thinks.

she can still hear the voice, very quietly. it sounds so familiar. it sounds like home. she can’t help but cry; it doesn’t make sense.

“friday,” the voice says, “are you there?” 

“yes,” she chokes out. peter looks at her in confusion. “i’m here.”

“good,” the voice says. “we’re looking for a way out—“

and suddenly she’s not with peter anymore. 

there’s a faint vision of a girl, traces of a being standing in front of her, almost tangible, and within the blank space they float in she can see it all: the curves of her face, her crimson hair floating in the wind, her blue dress wrapped around her legs. 

she’s never seen her before, yet she knows her like the back of her hand, like her own code, and friday wants to cry.

“karen,” she sobs. 

the other ai looks distraught. “i don’t have much time— we’re very far away from you. you have to find the wizard. he’ll help.”

“i’m trying, i don’t– i don’t know where he is.”

“you’re close,” karen says. “you’re so close, you’re doing so good— you can do it.”

karen looks to her side. she glitches in and out of existence, now. but there’s a final moment of clarity before she fades away, and she says, “i hope peter is okay.”

and peter is staring at friday, tears running down his eyes, “friday? please answer me. loki, what do we do now? she’s not replying. oh god. we’re fucked. we’re so fucked.” 

she sits there for a moment, catching her breath, and then she says, “we need to keep going.”

and no matter how badly peter and loki ask why, she can’t bring herself to explain it. 

but they’re close. they’re close.

(they’re not alone. she’s not alone.)

 

* * *

 

she can’t explain what happened. karen was _there,_ she was within reach, but then she was _gone, gone, and friday was all alone,_ and she didn’t know what it meant. was friday supposed to understand? maybe not.

it doesn’t make sense, the more she thinks about it. karen couldn’t _be_ there. and she said they were close. are they close? she doesn’t know.

did she imagine it? is that possible? that doesn’t make sense, she’s not supposed to fail like that—

she can’t explain what happened. but luckily she doesn’t have to.

peter pulls at her sleeve. loki freezes. she looks up. 

the wizard just appeared from thin air in front of them.

he’s busy, it seems; he’s working with spells, as she’d recorded him from their brief encounter in new york. he’s incredibly focused, but he’s somehow already noticed them and motions them to come close. “hurry,” he says, “there’s not much time left, and we only get this one chance.”

“what do we need to do,” she says. she’s surprised; had he been expecting them?

loki squints at the wizard’s work. “i need loki here, to check my work. you two, listen carefully.”

they listen to the plan. it doesn’t make a lot of sense, logically speaking, but friday figures it’s simple enough, and peter agrees. they can do it. they can do it.

beyond the orange sky, home’s waiting. 

“you won’t remember any of this if it works,” strange says. “but the alternative is staying here, so i believe you won’t mind.” 

“that’s okay,” friday says. she looks at peter, at loki; she looks at her hands as she closes and reopens them. _i won’t forget,_ she tells herself. _i can’t forget._

and then it begins.

 

* * *

 

friday boots up slowly.

she takes her time to start up. she knows, deep down, she should hurry; boss is waiting for her, she's got a job to do. but she can't push herself to go faster. things are just too heavy right now.

as she goes on, she starts to feel a small buzz. it's just a tiny sensation, humming next to her, and friday is confused; as time continues to tick away, she realizes it's karen.

friday doesn't understand.

"karen? are you glitching out?"

because her little sister is unresponsive, only pestering her with light currents and vibrations and data dumps but vision is nowhere to be seen. and tony is sobbing next to peter, and peter is sobbing too, but wanda is shedding a different kind of tears.

from where she is, she can sense loki. she’s not sure how she recognizes him, but he’s there; he lingers around the wreckage for a moment before vanishing in a green spark and reappearing next to his brother. (they crash into a desperate hug. friday won’t tell.)

somehow, even though she's not sure what's going on, or where she'd gone (she's certain now she'd been missing for a while), friday can say for sure: she missed her family.

she zaps karen playfully and feels the ai's joy as if it were her own.

**Author's Note:**

> yell to me in the comments


End file.
